


Trying Hard to Hide Alone

by MalachiTamim



Series: Hiding Place [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalachiTamim/pseuds/MalachiTamim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to "It's Just a Hiding Place" from Asami's POV. Asami ponders how her life really started when she met Korra all those years ago. Read Part 1 first for context!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When you lie in bed next to her, your hand stroking absently through her hair, you sometimes think your life hadn’t really started until you met her.

Mako wasn’t your first boyfriend, but he was the first boy you’d loved. You were very much in love with him when she wandered into your life, blustering into your least favorite class, late, with a paradoxical bashful arrogance. She was attractive of course, but it was her light that made her truly beautiful. You’d find out later she carried heavy burdens, but that day you just saw a brightness that filled you with warmth, a hope that you’d forever associate with her: _Korra_.

You went to absurd lengths to engage her in conversation in band, going so far as to engineer a quick fix to her ornery euphonium, despite her obvious disinterest in talking to you. You were genuinely surprised when she accepted your invitation to hang out at your house with Mako and Bolin. When Mako so ungracefully mentioned that she was in foster care—a fact that you later decided you should have discerned on your own based on her frequent stutters when referring to her family—you were astonished and even more so, proud. She had done so well without the support of her parents; her shyness frequently overpowered her personality, but the flashes of the girl you’d seen showed you a quick sense of humor, a strong student, and a dedicated athlete. More than that, her certain loneliness had not dimmed the light that shined in her. The years in state custody with no home to call her own and no family to love her should have cast an irrevocable shadow upon her, but she remained untouched. You were no stranger to the consequences of actual or effective orphan hood; after all, Mako and Bolin had spent years in the system.

It hurt you with a terrifying and penetrating pain when Mako began to pull away from you. As a child you discovered that the more you learned, the more the world made sense. So you spent thousands of hours reading and building, trying to bring order to the chaos left in the wake of your mother’s death. Your world once again tilted off kilter when Mako distanced himself because you didn’t know _why._ You held on tighter and tighter and tighter until your relationship crumbled in your hands. Only then, one fall day at a cross-country meet, did you discover why: _Korra_.

Opal talked with you in the hours before your official breakup with Mako, telling you all the things a best friend should: he doesn’t deserve you, you’re better than she is, you’ll find someone new. But Opal’s comforts rang hollow because you knew the truth. She was the embodiment of strength and light; there was no one better. As much as you felt like your six year old self, scrambling to hold onto your sense of self in the vast landscape of a world with rules you didn’t comprehend, you couldn’t help but sympathize with Mako’s choice. She would always be everything you weren’t.

A few nights after your breakup, you were laying on your bed, trying not to imagine Mako making out with her, an exercise they were almost certainly currently engaged in. Your father strolled into your room without knocking—his consistent absentmindedness made this a frequent occurrence—dragged your desk chair over beside your bed, and asked what was wrong. You sketched out the basics of your breakup with Mako, and he said the all of the things a father should: he’s a nice boy, but you’re meant for bigger things; someday you’ll meet someone new; and I know it hurts right now, but it will get better. You appreciated your father’s attempt, but it didn’t fill the pit of fear that had been widening in your stomach since you met her. So you asked him if he would still love you if you liked girls too. You knew you’d never forget the way he heaved a weary sigh, removed his glasses to clean them on his crisp linen shirt, and said, “Mach, I know you have a crush on Korra. I’ve suspected that you’re bisexual for years. It’s never had any bearing on my love for you. You’ll always be my little girl.” His childhood nickname for you, born out of your desire for speed from a young age, meant as much to you as his affirmations. It was also the first time since your breakup that the nausea subsided and you could be happy for her and Mako.

Of course, their relationship couldn’t endure the capriciousness of teenage hormones and inherent stubbornness. It was then your observations of her turned up something new: she had an impulsive streak. You understood and supported her physical defense of the freshman boy, but you couldn’t help but shake your head at her hastiness in cursing at Mako after hearing him corroborate the bullies’ story. He had told you later that he and the freshman student had defended her actions, but her reaction to the confrontation meant certain suspension. After that you watched her closer with a resolve to keep her out of trouble. Her arrest record was effectively taped like a target to her back, waiting to destroy her hopes and dreams. Opal and Bolin swore to take up your legacy after you graduated.

The summer after graduation brought more dramatic changes than you had anticipated. On top of preparing for college and saying goodbye to friends, you also suddenly had to contend with your father’s imprisonment, a flagging company, and having your summer cut short in order to squeeze in an extra semester of coursework. The changes were hard, but your father’s betrayal threatened to destroy you. You walked through life half aware of your surroundings, skating through your classes on sheer intellect. As your classmates chattered before and after class, organizing study groups and forming friendships, you found yourself on the outside. You sometimes felt left out, but if you were honest, your isolation was more than a little self-imposed. Future Industries’ legacy, trust upon you so prematurely, hung over your head like the sword of Damocles, ready to impale you at any moment. Somehow, you didn’t think your classmates would understand. Oddly, it was a girl your junior that managed to break through your haze of fear and impending doom with a sharp edged understanding and a disarming charm: _Korra._

You found yourself pouring out all of your insecurities, all of your feelings about your father’s decisions. For the first time in years you let yourself remember your mother and her wicked and untimely death. You let yourself wonder what she would say about the mess that had become your life. She would certainly condemn your father’s actions, but you didn’t know how she would feel about keeping the company in the family. You didn’t know because she was gone and thinking about this was a fruitless exercise. Still you ruminated on the matter and let it fester. For each decision you made, you masticated the options, parsing out the potential ways to make your long-dead mother proud. One day you met a boy who distracted you: _Iroh._

He was tall and handsome and nice and stable and mature; these were all things you needed in your life at the moment, but most importantly, he was there. You were both busy, so your romantic contact was limited in the first few months. Most of the time you spent together involved working on schoolwork in the same vicinity. As you grew closer you discovered he didn’t fill you with the same fire that Mako had in the beginning of your relationship and he didn’t make your stomach leap the way she did, but he was comfortable and safe and _there_. When you gave yourself to him, it wasn’t passionate, but it was enough.

All of your fears came rushing back upon your return to Republic City for the holidays. Holidays were hard in general since you lost your mom, but you didn’t know how you could face them this year with your father in prison. Thankfully, she stepped in, once more filling you with a hope you didn’t know you needed. On the eve of the winter solstice, she brought an end to your fears by telling you your mother would have been proud. Her reasoning was grounded in emotion and experience rather than logic, but you would allow it to comfort you just this once because you needed it and because it was her: _Korra_.

She looked beautiful in the dress Pema had picked out for Future Industries’ ball. You could tell she was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t until years later that you found out why. As you worked your fingers through her hair, trying to style it in a way that would remind her of home, you chattered aimlessly, your nerves over her proximity getting the better of you. You couldn’t help it; the quiet, unassuming strength you knew she possessed had become a raw physicality in the months since you’d last seen her.

Her body was important to her. You knew she had tentatively been offered several full scholarships for soccer, something she had worked so hard for, for so long. She honed her muscles in the weight room, strove for endurance on trails, hurtled for speed in agility training, and commanded control on the field. Though she only hinted at it in emails, you knew she had a tremendous amount of expectations resting on her shoulders, a burden that all of her weightlifting couldn’t prepare her for. Her various teams counted on her to be a super-human force on the field, but that was a two-pound hand weight compared to the barbell of pressure she felt to make the various youth national teams and eventually the actual national team when she was ready. Even then she would be expected to act as a role model at all times and would be required to continually fight for her spot.

Apart from soccer, you knew she had a desperate desire to belong. Her family had all but abandoned her and her poor choices had prevented her from cleaving to a new one. Tenzin’s family was her last hope for a family, and though she loved them and was loved in return, you knew she feared taking one misstep and destroying everything she’d worked for. You wished you could take on some of this weight for her, but you knew you didn’t have the strength to do more than encourage her. Perhaps she didn’t need it because she carried around her burdens with a self-deprecating grin, something you’d never managed to perfect. She had pride, but she wasn’t afraid to set it aside when she needed something; yours, however, ran deep.

During her senior year of high school, her pride almost destroyed any hope of reunification with her parents, while yours helped you to keep your failing company afloat. In the end, you’d helped each other. You convinced her to call her father when she was _so, so_ mad at him for ruining her life. She’d forgiven him and he had managed to clear his name. In return, he had worked out a way to contract with your company so that you didn’t have to close your doors. When you attended her scholarship signing and hugged her for the first time, you could hardly bring yourself to let go. It was then that you realized you loved her, but you rapidly shoved aside those thoughts because you were trying hard to love him instead: _Iroh._

You and Iroh both lived in Republic City, so you saw quite a lot of one another. He was always around, which was what you needed most. You needed someone to talk you down when you had a bad day at work. You needed someone to hold you when the ghosts of your past haunted your days and nightmares devoured your nights. And you needed the intimacy that comes with sex. He provided all of that and loved you wholeheartedly. In return, you told him, others, and yourself that you loved him back. And you did, but, in a deep chasm of your heart, you hid the truth; there was only one person: _Korra._

You were nervous for her as she prepared for college. It was a tough transition for anyone, but especially for a Water Tribe girl moving to the Earth Kingdom after she’d finally found the security and love of a family she’d desired her whole life. You knew she didn’t trust Pema and Tenzin’s promises to continue to be a family, so you resolved to remind her whenever she forgot. On the night before she left, you stood on the gazebo once again, but this time you offered the reassurances she needed. You were stunned to hear that she didn’t trust your friendship either. With an open expression and a comforting hand, you told her the truth: her emails meant everything to you.

She started summer training and you focused on your company. Now that you had a steady cash flow, your job was starting to become fun. You didn’t get to design as much as you would have liked, but you did enjoy encouraging the creativity of others. Seeing your name on designs that would make a difference in the world filled you with pride. So did receiving an award for turning your company into one of transparency.

The best part of your fall, however, was heading to Zaofu to surprise her. Ice cold jealousy shot through you when you realized she had a crush on Kuvira, despite the fact that Kuvira was engaged and apparently straight. You prodded and teased to get her to admit it, but she remained clueless, so you stopped lest you force her into outing herself before she was ready.  

Not long after, she called you, frantic, saying that Tenzin and his family were being held hostage and asking what she should do. You shared her helplessness, but you couldn’t abandon her, so you made some calls and flew out to Ba Sing Se to pick her up. You sat in silence for a long time, neither of you knowing what to say. You were terrified to learn her plan because in your heart you knew what she was going to do, but you still asked her. When she made a joke about dying, you couldn’t bear it anymore and you didn’t know how she could. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. _It wasn’t fair_. You repeated this to yourself over and over. You couldn’t lose another person you loved, so you promised to save her. When you landed your jet and stepped outside, you embraced her fiercer than was appropriate for friends, but you didn’t care.

As she walked away from you with the strength of a god, your world ended.   


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Asami's POV. This story is to be read in conjunction with It's Just a Hiding Place.

Nothing went the way you planned it. Zaheer remained true to his word and released Tenzin and his family as soon as she arrived, but there were complications in rescuing her. RCPD could only put so many officers at risk in an attempt to save one girl from a ruthless terrorist. When a whole day had passed and Chief Beifong was still attempting to coordinate a response, you called _him_ in. At first he protested, claiming he had no grounds to intervene, but you all but begged him. _Someone_ had to save her. When he heard the desperation in your voice, something you’d never allowed him to see in you, he reluctantly agreed to sit down for a meeting with Beifong. They came to the understanding that their forces would work together, but that the responsibility would ultimately fall upon him. It was an enormous risk that ultimately turned out well for him. In the coming days, he would receive a promotion, pulling him away from Republic City and you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care because she was alive, but not okay: _Korra._

You split your time over the next two weeks between work and the hospital. You knew she wouldn’t remember your presence while she was unconscious, but it felt wrong to not have her daily presence in her life. Your assistant worked with you to get as much accomplished as possible; you knew you wouldn’t leave her side when she finally awoke. No matter what the doctors said, you refused to believe it was _if_ and not _when_. 

It took two weeks, but it turned out your faith was not misplaced. She woke up a couple of times when you were there, only to scream in pain. On the third time, she was coherent and in good spirits and you couldn’t understand why. The doctors had informed you that she had little feeling in her hands and arms, and none below the waist. You quickly realized she didn’t know and your heart broke for her yet again. When Tenzin told her, she fell into silence and refused to talk. It was the start of a quiet two months for you. As difficult as it was to watch her suffer, so alone in her head, you decided you would never abandon her to her self-imposed isolation. 

You became her primary caretaker once she was finally back home. She spurned other people’s ministrations, but for some reason she never cringed away from your touch. Some days you even managed to coax a smile or a few words out of her. On other days nothing you attempted made any difference and she lay on her bed in misery, refusing to talk, eat, or even move. 

When she was in such a mood, you talked or read to her, pretending she was listening, though you never truly managed to convince yourself.  One day pretending wasn’t enough, and as soon as she closed her eyes, probably feigning sleep, you bolted from her room, intent on fleeing Air Temple Island. You only made it to the kitchen before you ran headlong into Katara. She had been helping out with the young children who were so traumatized by everything that had occurred. 

Before you could figure out how it happened, you were sobbing into Katara’s chest, her arms wrapped tightly around you. You spilled out all of your fears about her never recovering and how useless you felt. Katara offered token comforting thoughts, which did little to settle your turbulent emotions. But then she told you something you knew you would always remember: “When tragedies happen, few people think about the fallout, about what happens when the dust settles. You’ve decided to stick around. Even if you think you’re not doing anything, you are.” Your spirit renewed, you went back to her room and told her everything you had been thinking and feeling. After that, you saw a change in her. She started to try to live again and you heaved a sigh of relief. 

But then she intimated her intentions to leave. You brushed it aside; she wouldn’t leave you. Then there were three days before she left. Two. One. On the day of her flight, you threw your life plans away and offered to go with her. Your lungs contracted and you couldn’t breathe when she declined, so you clung to the only tether you had left holding you together: you choked out a demand that she email you. She promised and you inhaled, bringing air into your lungs only to find it was stagnant because she was your life and she was leaving you. 

As soon as her flight was in the air, you dug your phone out of your back pocket to call him; he wasn’t her, but you thought maybe sex might help you feel something other than dread. Your phone in hand, you suddenly remembered that because he helped save her, he had been recalled to the Fire Nation to help with orchestrating war games. Because he helped save her, they were both gone. Instead, you went to a bar and drank until you were cut off. The bartender refused to let you leave on your own—you didn’t drink often enough to function as even a semi-coherent drunk—and took your phone. He asked whom you wanted to call to come pick you up and you said the only name that mattered: _Korra._

You almost shouted at him when he began to search through your contacts because you couldn’t call her, and you said the first name that made sense: Opal. She came to pick you up, astonished to find that you’d gotten drunk by yourself in the middle of a weekday. You ended up back in her apartment, sobbing about things you didn’t remember the next day. You had only a lingering taste in your mouth of stale alcohol, regret, and the girl who had left you just like everyone you loved.

But she kept her word. You received her first email from her late one evening. It was barely a sentence, but she had kept her promise. You cried in the shower that night because despite everything that had happened, she cared enough about you to fight through the despair and keep her promise.

Over the next few weeks, your relief faded because though she kept her word, she was struggling—although “struggling” was inaccurate because she had fallen back into not trying. Katara flew down to try to help her, but she remained listless. When he called for your weekly Skype sessions (it was all the contact he could manage at sea), you talked to him about her and he told you all about PTSD and its effects. You were certain that was what she was suffering from, but you didn’t know how to bring it up. Then, you woke up early one morning to an email about what she was experiencing. You realized this was your chance, so you phoned Katara and told her what she had written to you. 

You called her later that morning and talked to her. She was so angry. Your stomach dropped down to your feet when she told you she didn’t want to be friends anymore, but you kept calm and once everything was sorted out, she told you that she didn’t mean it. You had known she was speaking from anger, but it still made you feel better to know that you could expect an email from her later that day.

Her emails became more detailed from then on. Though she rarely displayed her old sense of humor, you could tell she was improving. Things only got better when she started online courses. You knew she was nervous about attending actual classes in the fall because she was still in a wheelchair, but you sided with her mother and Katara and she agreed to go. You took a day off to research alternative mobility options, speaking with her physical therapists and seeking out a supplier. By the end of the day, a pair of forearm crutches were in the mail to her. Her grateful email made you smile for a week because she finally sounded like herself again. 

Your employees asked if his proposal was what had you so happy. He was visiting, so it was a reasonable conclusion, but misinformed. You both had talked about marriage and had made tentative promises, but he wasn’t ready to get married and neither were you. You told your nosy employees that you were just happy he was in town, but the truth was it was all her: _Korra_. 

Everything threatened to come crashing down when you received a despondent email from her. For years following, even thinking of that email brought out a cold sweat all over your body. You shuddered to think of what would have happened if you hadn’t had your phone on you, of what would have happened if you had ignored the chime that alerted you to a new email. Because that email was not. like. her. You called her and talked her down from what you thought was a metaphorical cliff, but what you found out after you were officially together was an actual one. When she told you she missed you, you told her you loved her and the world around you grew still. You hadn’t meant to tell her that and feared her response, but she assumed you meant friendship and you didn’t correct her. 

You left work early that day and went back to the same bar you had gotten drunk at a few months before. You drowned your fears and love in gin until the same bartender cut you off. He took your phone and called Opal because you were incoherent, though not so drunk as the last time. So you found yourself back at Opal apartment, crying to her about how you were terrified of losing _her_. You remembered in the morning Opal asking if you were in love with her, but you couldn’t remember your response. Because Opal never mentioned that night again, you never asked her what you had said. 

It turned out to be a rough fall for both you and Opal. Just a few weeks after your second breakdown, your friendly neighborhood bartender had to call Opal again to come pick you up from your drunken stupor. This time you poured out all of your insecurities about how in the last email you had gotten from her, she had mentioned a girl named Rikka whom she had befriended. You knew Rikka liked her. You didn’t know how you knew, but you were certain of it. You weren’t quite so drunk as the first two times, so you and Opal had a semi-coherent conversation. At least, in the morning you remembered her telling you that you needed to get a grip on your feelings for _Korra._ She said her name and it felt like a breach of privacy because that name belonged to you. Still, you knew Opal was right and you swore to yourself it wouldn’t happen again. You broke that oath, but not for several months.

You occupied your time by building her a car that would accommodate any level of ability; you still weren’t sure she would be able to operate a car with foot pedals. You also weren’t sure that was what Opal meant, but at least you stopped getting drunk and all but confessing your love for someone who wasn’t your boyfriend. He was still away and you were lonely. That was why you finally opened the letters your father had been sending you since he had been imprisoned. You cried quietly as you read his declarations of love and requests for forgiveness. There was a number for the prison on the envelope, so you called it and set up a time to go visit him. When the guards let you into the visitation cell, your father stood up from his seat at the metal table and tentatively opened his arms. Before you stopped to think about it, you rushed toward him and fell into them. He whispered your nickname for you and you pushed back tears. You didn’t come to forgive him, but to find out why he had chosen this path. His answers were less than satisfying; nothing he said could possibly explain away what he had done. Still, it was enough and you promised to come back when you could. 

In the spring, you finally convinced Korra to return to Republic City, if only to intern with Future Industries for the summer. You thought she might back out, but once the plans were finalized, your confidence began to grow. Then you realized you would have to see her again and suddenly it was gone. For a week you managed to throw yourself into work to forget about her, but it didn’t work and the bartender sighed when you entered the bar for the fourth time. He reached for your phone to call Opal before he even gave your first tumbler of gin. This time she got there before you were drunk and you had a somewhat sober discussion where Opal reassured you that _Korra_ would love the car you made her and that you didn’t need to worry about her not liking you anymore. Opal’s snort at this last reassurance told you she was hiding something, but even with two drinks in your system you weren’t brave enough to ask what. It didn’t matter because nothing did; it was only be two weeks before she arrived: _Korra._

When she did arrive, you were more nervous than you had ever been in your life. You were more nervous than when you started high school, went to college at the age of sixteen, or even on your first day as the official CEO of Future Industries. And it was all because of her. You shook as you turned off your car; the keys in the ignition jingling as you attempted to extract them. Your first sight of her almost brought you to your knees. You wanted to grab her and kiss her, but you settled for hugging her and complimenting her hair. She was very quiet, so you chattered about nothing and worried that she didn’t like the car you had built for her. Her genuine thanks reassured you.

That night you went out to dinner with your friends and you were surprised to see him there. You knew he was in town, but you had forgotten you had invited him. When he hugged her and told her you were often concerned about her, your face grew red. You hadn’t realized you had told him so much about her. As you drove her home, she asked if you were lonely and her open expression told you she was more reflective now than she had been. You told her the truth: that you were sometimes lonely, but having her in your life would always be enough. 

Later that summer you convinced her to attend the Future Industries ball and you panicked when she started to cry in an upscale boutique dressing room. For a terrifying moment you thought she was having a flashback, but she soon informed you of her deep hatred for dresses. You nearly laughed before you could stop yourself because it was so unexpected and you loved her so much. Instead you told her she could wear a tux rather than a dress, and she perked up quickly. At the ball, you were kept busy, which you expected. What you hadn’t expected was her unending string of dance partners. You managed to snag her for the final dance and were astonished to find she was a competent dancer. That one five-minute dance was your favorite part of the summer and made up for the fact that he was away again. You were more than surprised when she told you how much it had meant to her as well. 

With her gone again, you were lost. He was always away, though you Skyped at least weekly. So, to make up for their absence, you started accepting requests to be a guest speaker at various venues. You spoke at high schools, colleges, and businesses. It worked for a time, but quickly ceased to fill the void. Then you added hacking to your arsenal. She was impressed and if you were honest with yourself, that was at least half of the reason you chose to learn that skill. 

Her thoughtfulness was one of the things you loved most about her. That’s why when she asked you to send her car to a young girl who had been paralyzed in an accident, you immediately agreed. You even told her she could give your number to the young girl’s best friend, even though that was something you were wholly uncomfortable with. Still, when Kya texted you to ask what she should do when Nini refused to talk to her, you found you were capable of providing a helpful response, thanks to all of the time you had spent talking to her: _Korra_.

With the threat of Kuvira approaching the city, you began to grow more and more apprehensive. You knew it wouldn’t end well and that she would be in the middle of it, thanks to her internship and former friendship with the militant. On the day Kuvira attacked, taking down the communication systems of Republic City, you put your new hacking skills to use and with the help of fellow hackers, managed to help defeat the invading forces. After _she_ subdued Kuvira and encouraged her to surrender, you swept her up into a hug. You almost confessed your love to her there, but you were quickly interrupted by Mako. It was probably for the best, you later considered, because _he_ was standing right beside you and you didn’t think he would take kindly to hearing that you were in love with someone else. 

Not long after, he proposed to you. It was a thoughtful moment, if uninspiring. He told you he would have asked for your father’s permission, but couldn’t for obvious reasons. He also made a joke about how he should have asked her instead. You tried to laugh, but only managed a weak smile because even though he was joking, he was right. You couldn’t marry him without her permission. Still, to avoid an uncomfortable situation, you agreed to his proposal and emailed her as soon as you got home. 

You feared her response and were surprised when she called you instead of emailing back. As she gave you non-answers, your confusion was only magnified. Then she said your name: _Asami_. You couldn’t remember her ever speaking your name aloud and it brought tears to your eyes. You had wondered why she never dared to say it, but when she finally did, it sounded so safe in her mouth, like it belonged there.

You were floored when she confessed her love for you and as her face drew near to yours, time seemed to stop, except for your heart, which accelerated like it was making up for lost time. Kissing her wasn’t like kissing him or even Mako. You had loved them both, but it didn’t compare to her. It was everything you had never let yourself hope it would be. All of the love you had held close to your heart for years finally beat its way to the surface. 

And then she told you to choose her. You loved her, but you needed to say no to her. You loved her, but you would never be good enough for her. You loved her, but it was such a risk to choose her. You loved her, but no one you loved stayed in your life. You loved her, but you couldn’t lose her. But she told you she had chosen you and your heart melted. Your resolve faltered and you let yourself be swayed because it was her: _Korra._

Breaking up with him went surprisingly smoothly. You apologized profusely and told him you were in love with her. He told you that he had always known that, but had hoped you could love him too. You smiled sadly and told him it wasn’t enough. Again, he said he had always known it wouldn’t be. He hugged you goodbye and said he wanted you to be happy. You replied that with her you could be. As you left, you realized it no longer hurt to say his name: _Iroh._

You had loved her so deeply for so long that it took time for you to accept the idea that you were together. You would catch yourself reaching out to hold her hand or resting your head on hers and pull back, afraid of her reaction. Ever astute, she would smile at you and reach for you instead. You loved her so much and trusted she loved you in return. No matter how many times you had tried to hide your love for her, she always came barging back into your life with the grace of a bulldozer and insisted on worming her way into your heart. You suspected you would always treasure her name: _Korra._

When you lie in bed next to her, your hand stroking absently through her hair, you sometimes think your life hadn’t really started until you met her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes Asami's POV. Since I'm guessing many of you won't read the alternate ending (to be posted sometime mid/late December), let me just say thank you to everyone who has read this and commented or messaged me. It means so much. Additionally, a huge thank you to Mitsakuni who has made sure this story stayed on track from the beginning (more or less).
> 
> Feel free to find me on Tumblr or FF.net if you ever want to talk.

**Author's Note:**

> I went with 2nd person because 1st and 3rd were sounding too much like Korra's voice. Hopefully that's okay. This will be a two-shot. Thank you so much for all of your support!
> 
> The title is still from "Hiding Place" by Aushua, specifically the lyric:
> 
> Tryin' not to bare the bone/tryin' hard to hide alone/and she bursts into my room/carryin' a Bible and a broom/screamin' let me in


End file.
